Today I went to the Shoppette (which if I haven't explained to you/you're not a military savvy person is a gas station with all kinds of liquor they sell tax-free 24/7) and wanted to buy some good beer to sip on. I went with some Rolling Rock, some Heineken and on a whim I grabbed a deuce-deuce of Stella Artois. When I got back to my room I popped it open and the smell opened my head up.
See I bought it because I hadn't had it before. I recognized it but have never bought any for whatever reason. So when I smelled it I realized I had drank Stella before, I'd just forgotten. It was in '06 in Milan when I went there with Ralph. I drank lightly all day, everyday and more in the evenings. I had such a great fucking time wandering around the city with a buzz, poking my nose into strange old buildings and nearly getting ran over by pretty ladies on Vespa's. And I guess my nose remembers what the rest of my head has forgotten. Nothing so profound, just a simple joy from life that has eluded me for a little while.
When I have my own place to live it is going to have a porch. Not a deck or a balcony or a stoop, am honest to fucking goodness porch. And I am going to sit on my porch on sunny spring and fall days and breathe the fresh air and drink good beer and watch the whole damn world do whatever it is they think is so important all day long.